Hey you
by areyourealasme
Summary: what if Ion and Esther were normal, had average lives...in dealing with relationships and other mortal troubles...not sure if ill continue it, was a spur of the moment thing, dont like it dont read dont bother to comment never feel compeled to read it aga


To be honest I wrote this for someone , not only as a fanfic , I don't know why I'm actually putting it up…I just so happened to be watching trinity blood, and I made my account for fanfics not long ago.

You like it, well then you get a cookie….you don't, well then I'm sorry you didn't and I hope you never feel compelled to read it again...by the way, I don't own Trinity Blood, if I did well there would a hell of lot more betrayal and Esther and Ion probably would have had a Romeo and Juliet ending. Nor do I own the characters (Ester would have long black hair and violet eyes) so no need to sue ay.

Warning –yes I do have horrible grammar- so for all spell check freaks-tell your grammar god he better strike me down, I'm committing an atrocity against you religion.

For all you fact freaks- yes I'm wrong most of the time and you god of facts can fuck the god of grammar up the ass twice

Because to both, NO I DON'T CARE. I do accept criticism, and ideas, so long as you're not an ass about it. If you're an ass, as you will see in my Random Rant, I will just ignore you. And your words will just do nothing but sit a little corner and whine for its Depends (adult diapers) to be changed.

Ester sat at her desk, patiently wanting the bell to ring. The bell that signified her last class of the day was at its end. It wasn't often her math teacher let the leave early, always right at three forty. After class, she would have to fights her way down the crowded halls and to her car. She couldn't be late to work, not again. She had to work today; she worked at a small mart for four months, not minding the work loads. Moving boxes from the back, setting the many items onto their shelves. She didn't even mind the dark blue shirts and ugly tan pants. But she did dislike the women she recognized coming her way, with a chestier grin and at least four days worth of makeup on her face. The women was a pest, she always came with the only intention of mocking the red head. She only came to say how well her son was doing. Not that ester cared much…her boss would save her from the maddening women …soon….hopefully.

When she finally made it home at around ten, he was waiting for her…Ion…sitting on the coach, sucking on a blood red lollipop and watching a marathon of some strange anime. That or playing his new, Left for dead video game. He too had to work in the morning, he slept as Ester showered. She sat down to watch the anime, one of her favorites…but her mind was to cluttered…so she wrote a letter…to an old friend…

Hey you

I just wanted to tell you … I loved you for you …once. For what was inside that pale body, made of flesh and bone. It had little to do with that lively hair, or that cloth you wore, expensive as they may have been. They like you got old and filled with holes. Not for that paint on your face, it only hides your true form.

Hard to believe I loved a man for him…because…you could see me…back then…you let me be me…at one point you didn't judge me…like the others. That smile on your face…once put me in my place…when I was angry or down some how you managed to turn me upside down.

You showed me I was real, when I couldn't live anymore. But then again, that was so long ago. I never did forget your face…no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I wish I could. You never did falter, you knew who you were…at one time…you were real. Not a doll, like the others who walk these halls. Controlled, trying to please those who will bring them fortune and fame.

I never liked them, you of all people knew that…but I…in many ways like you…couldn't stand myself…let alone others. You called me fake…said I was just like them…because I was not like you. They called me a freak…said I didn't belong…that I was nothing…because I wasn't like them…Your words hurt more, like a stab wound, it's still bleeding…healing slowly as I write this.

Then again…you never felt betrayed…no one ever had the balls to stand up to you…just stand behind you and cheer…those willing to fight you talk behind your back…to coward to confront you…you never really did know me, did you? I'm not like them, and I'm not like you…your idea of a women is a size two dress, with a painted face in a size two high heal with long lashes and a queens upbringing. You never liked that I could speak my mind and fight back.

You thought I was like you…that's why you could stand me…you thought I was prim and proper…but truth be told…I never was…I don't know what made you think I was. You were right about one thing…we are alone…we both at one point were lost…but you hate the world, wanted everyone to be like you imagine them.

So did I once…I'm not innocent never was just…wanted to be accepted by others, but you gave me a reason to live…accepted me…if only for a little while, you gave me a purpose to change. Your friends didn't like me, because I didn't dress like them, didn't meet their standards. Hate to tell you this but what makes a person true and real is the attitude…you can't pull off being something you're not without the right feelings and actions to match it…not the amount you spend on a piece of cloth, though I will never tell you …what a poser you really are. Not out of fear…no, you are not a god…I have nothing to fear on this earth…but out of the love I felt once. I suppose it holds me back.

Why couldn't you just accept me for me, the way I did with you? See me for who I am, and what I am not? I suppose that's asking too much. I'm sorry I can't change, I'm sorry you hate me but I am not sorry for being me…for not being the definition of the person you want me to be...you always fought me…even over the smallest things.

I couldn't do right by you…never live up to those standards you held so high. You lived by your mother's words, she always pictured you with a well brought up women, who worked a hard job, so you would never work a day in your life…I bet she would kill herself if she found out you were bi, that or send you to a foreign country for six years till the gay is gone. I just found it funny how you live your life pretending. She's actually the reason I'm writing this, but that will come up later…

Let's just be clear…I never wanted to be you…I never wanted your dear old mother to accept me…I knew even back then no matter what I did, she never would…she seen me for what I was, no hard working job could change her mind. No one ever had the gall to tell her to mind her business I suppose.

Just thought I would tell you…I you said I was angry with her, because I couldn't make her like me…you could never have been more wrong…

I'm not one to through things in people's faces…but I gave you a place to stay when you couldn't get in to your own home, all the money I had, things you said you needed, only to find out you spent it on someone or something stupid. Like black lights for your room and car. Or those pathetic excuses pure stone, that were only plastic. I still cannot believe you thought you bought a REAL goblet, for two hounded dollars, a fake rip off…completely plastic.

Know…as for your mother…I'm doubt she told you, she ran into me…at work. Its funny how she just so happens to run into me every couple of days , always with a new story to tell about how you and your "Fiancé" are…oh so happy and perfect… yeah…you living in your basement so your Fiancé can have your room, and both of you can be married and living with your mother. But it doesn't bother me…because you see I moved out of my old house…into my own apartment. I live there with my boyfriend, we have lived there for five months know and our one year anniversary only just passed this Halloween. He has his own career and actually shows emotions. In fact, I'm leaving my job in less than two weeks. It's funny how not even two months after we separate, I find someone knew…and dare I say much better…in more ways then one. Someone who doesn't just sit on his ass saying "poor me poor me"

"….Poor me" my ass, you get everything served to you on a golden platter….then dare say poor me…pathetic example of a human. You play tragic for attention, nothing but a poser.

I will never send these…I wish I would. Going crazy, writing to myself, worse than talking to myself…I want so badly to through it in your face, but I never could…never will. I won't argue with you, about whose life is better, after this semester, I'm set…interning as an accounting…then a few months later…I'll be a full blown accountant…making more then you, your mother and you girlfriend. Go ahead call me a disgrace…the only thing you got going for you in life is you looks and charm. (Not like theirs much there, for god's sake man, you put on a hounded and twenty pounds) you look like a blimp.

As she finished that off, she felt someone what lighter…her hear seemed to be spinning, her body weak from the need to sleep. Making her way to the bedroom, she found Ion reading in the bed. Smiling, she cuddled to him tight…and kissed him good night.

Random Rant

Not everything needs to be based on facts, by the way here is a fact for you…Grades are meaningless in the real world…I get like sixties and seventies and this is some of the times. More often than not, I fail a class or even three. Still graduated, never got left behind in a grade. I am not a great writer, I will warn you, but what makes a writer a writer is like what makes and artist and artist the natural talent of imagination. To look at a blank page and see a dreary thriller and fairytale romance, no one not even the losers who have nothing to do but sit on their computers all day checking for people who are wrong, and flaming them…should be able to stop you. Take it from me…Whenever I get flamed, I write more and more chapter, after a while they get the hint and move on to the next person. Just ignoring worthless people gets you far in life… but I'm sure most of you know this…


End file.
